Love Story
by beautyinthebreakdownx
Summary: A bitter, cliched love story.


**Once, there was a girl.**

She owned a big, poofy dress and a large golden crown. She fancied herself as a princess, with her plastic pearls, fake jewels, and pretty painted nails.

She wanted to find her prince more than anything.

She was nine years old.

As the years passed, she waited, and watched. Even the frogs in her own backyard pond.

She wanted her own love story, complete with a large pink ribbon on top. Her fairy tale, she thought, was sure to come. Soon the awkward duckling would blossom into a gorgeous swan.

On her eleventh birthday, she invited her friends over for a sleepover. They played hide-and-seek, and truth or dare.

She was dared to kiss her dream boy, Toby. Toby was the handsome popular boy, charming all the sixth grade girls with his collection of Pokémon cards.

She giggled. Of course she was up to the challenge. She danced with her girlfriends that night, Hannah Montana twinkling in the background, the air filled with shrieks, off-key notes, pillows, and all the possibilities in the world.

Toby was just within the boundaries of her dreams.

Was he her prince?

She came home in tears one day, a crumpled Pokémon card in her hand. No, Toby was just a frog, a mean, and cruel frog. He wasn't destined for her.

He had pulled her hair, and taunted her, when she had come close to him.

So she had stolen one of his prized possessions, and wished she could destroy the world.

Where was her true love's first kiss?

She was sixteen, sweet sixteen and ready to conquer the world.

She drove to her best friend's party, in her new cherry red convertible.

She was drunk on the summer air, pulling the top down, and singing out loud with the stars on the radio. She wore a white eyelet tank top with cut-off shorts. On her neck sat a real set of pearls, that her parents had given to her on her sweet sixteen.

She was in love with the idea of love. She wanted to finally meet him.

She was in love. He held a red, plastic cup, offering it to her, which she gladly drank. He was tall, so much taller, and so… charming.

He pulled her into the dark corners, to whisper sweet things in her ear, and sway with the loud music that was blasting through the speakers… a song… a sweet song…. A love song.

He asked her to dance. And she said yes. She placed her head on his shoulder, then looked up, shyly into his eyes. She was falling…falling…falling….

Into the dark corners, where he fingered her pearls, and then her top…going under…and then…. She couldn't remember.

She had dropped the red plastic cup… the brown liquid spilling in the grass.

Where was her prince?

She woke up, back in a familiar setting, and found her pearls around her neck.

She cried, and broke the necklace, the white beads flying everywhere.

That had not been… true love's first kiss.

She was eighteen.

She wore a big, poofy dress, her hair done up in curls. Her nails painted a pretty pink.

She rode with her old girlfriends in a sleek black limo. She wore a smile as real as the old plastic pearls she wore on her neck.

A large, plastic crown was placed on her head, later that night. She tried her best to be happy, while surveying the large crowd with their understanding smiles, and sympathy in their eyes, boring directly into her.

She waved. She could be a princess. She was beautiful. A beautiful swan.

She then left the stage, leaving the too-bright lights and tiara behind.

She wasn't a child, and she knew.

There wasn't a big pink ribbon. Or a fairy-tale kingdom… Or even a prince.

There was a crumpled-up Pokemon card. A red, plastic cup filled with toxic liquid. A broken necklace. And too many, much too many frogs…

She was eighteen.  
She wore a big, poofy dress, with pretty painted nails, and white plastic pearls.

She pulled her hair down, and tore her beautiful dress, pulling away the ridiculous layers and layers of glittering tulle.

She sat down, in the street, and cried for what she couldn't even begin to understand, clutching the white plastic pearls around her neck.

She was a girl, she realized. Just a girl.

The stars no longer shined in her eyes, she was no longer blindsided by her silly, naïve and innocent childhood dreams.

She was just a girl, in a tattered dress, holding fake beads in her hand.

And this was her love story-

Prince no where in sight.


End file.
